There followed a momentary pause, then her voice rose solemnly to the vaulted roof.
"My Lord Raja, Prasad Singh, thou hast no need to go to Jhansi for the Rani. Behold she is now before thee."
She moved from the shadow and stood confronting him, an expression of offended dignity visible upon her face.
He uttered an exclamation of surprise mingled with dismay. Impulsively he strode forward.
"Stand where thou art," she commanded. "Move not a pace, a man of you, for at the raising of my voice a hundred troopers, lying at hand, will hasten to my side."
With a muttered oath Prasad halted, while the Rani turned to the door and summoned Ahmad.
Almost upon the instant the Mohammedan noble and a score of the Rani's bodyguard appeared before the entrance.
"Alas, Ahmad," she said. "Our hope is dashed in pieces as a pitcher hurled upon a rock. Bipin, poor fellow, hath earned my displeasure as well as my gratitude for the truth that he has told. I would now, that I could recompense him for being a liar concerning this night's work. Take these duped fools into safe keeping, and then await my order. I will speak with Prasad first."
She motioned the shrinking forms inside the chamber to pass without, and remained alone with Prasad.
For several minutes there reigned an unbroken silence, as the Rani and her guilty lover stood face to face. The moon had risen over the lake and sent its pale light through a crevice in the dome of the ruined tomb. It marked by deep shadows the recesses, and filled the chamber with an atmosphere in sympathy with the chill that seized upon the heart of the woman.